


Going Home

by JehanFerres



Category: Les Misérables - All Media Types
Genre: Alternate Universe - Boarding School, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Established Relationship, F/F, F/M, Kissing, M/M, Meeting the Parents
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2013-11-17
Updated: 2014-01-27
Packaged: 2018-01-01 20:38:50
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 6,512
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1048331
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/JehanFerres/pseuds/JehanFerres
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Combeferre takes Jehan to meet his parents. It doesn't go entirely according to plan</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Is this a new series? Is this from another series? Who knows?
> 
> Anyway my friend Izzi gave me the idea for this so I decided to write it uvu. (As usual I can't write Titles.)

Jehan really couldn’t hep his anxiety about finally actually meeting Combeferre’s parents - he had, obviously, seen Combeferre and Isabelle, his older sister, around the school, and had also met Combeferre’s twin brother Hugo, and his younger sister Eloise. However, Combeferre’s parents were a different subject entirely, and Jehan’s stomach twisted even at the thought of meeting them. He busied himself packing his suitcase with slightly shaking hands instead, taking deep breaths every so often, even though his hands were shaken.

He and Combeferre had, although he could hardly believe it, been together for the whole of the school year, almost, and Jehan had honestly never thought that his feelings for Combeferre would come to anything, let alone a relationship, but, apparently, it had. He knew, however, that Combeferre had, so far, told only Izzy even that he was gay, and not even told his twin (not that they were especially close) about their relationship, something about which Jehan was extremely anxious, even though Combeferre had said that his parents were far from judgmental.

After about ten minutes of Jehan packing, Combeferre appeared and sat down beside him, pulling him close and leaning his cheek against the top of his head. Jehan leaned up to kiss him, mumbling, “Hello…” against the older boy’s lips, and stroking Ferre’s cheek until he felt him smile.

“Hi,” Ferre replied when they broke apart, smiling. “You packed?”

“Not completely, no.” Jehan said, leaning sideways against Combeferre on the bed. “I’m too anxious.”

Combeferre ran a gentle hand through his hair, before leaning down again and kissing him before Jehan could speak more. “Hm? What are you anxious about, chér?” he asked gently.

“I… I just don’t want your family to hate me,” Jehan said after a moment. Combeferre squeezed his waist and looked ponderously down at him. “Because I can’t even understand why you like me, let alone anyone else. What have you family got to like?”

Combeferre sighed. “I know how you feel, believe me. But if Izzy likes you and Hugo and Ellie both like you I really can’t see any reason why the rest of my family would dislike you. Aside from my father but really he doesn’t count; my stepdad has been more involved in Izzy’s life than him.”

“You really aren’t helping,” Jehan said softly. Combeferre rubbed his back lightly. “And I don’t believe that Hugo likes me. He obviously thought I’m horrible, and I am, I…”

“Jehan…” Combeferre stroked Jehan’s hair gently, letting the poet turn his head and press against his chest, rubbing his back lightly until he stopped seeming so shaky. “For one thing, Hugo is more aspergic than me; he’s awful at actually showing how he feels but I’ve grown up with him, unfortunately. I can tell you for a fact that Hugo definitely likes you a lot. Even if he is more useless at feelings than I am,” Combeferre said gently.

Jehan looked trustingly up at him. “Promise?”

“Promise.”

He hated to be so needy and clingy but really he didn’t know how else to deal with how anxious he was feeling; he had been on the brink of a panic attack before Combeferre had arrived and even though his boyfriend’s presence was certainly helping he was still incredibly anxious. “I’m sorry…”

“Don’t be,” Combeferre said gently, leaning down to kiss Jehan’s forehead and cuddling him close. “Come on,” he added softly. “You need to get out and I have not had hot chocolate for a week, besides which I owe you,” he said, kissing Jehan properly. Jehan giggled and crawled over his lap.

“I’m curious about that mint hot chocolate…” he admitted once they broke apart.

“Don’t be. It’s like drinking toothpaste,” Combeferre replied, prodding his nose. “You just want the whipped cream.”

“You breathing in chocolate powder and coughing is amusing as well,” Jehan said, smirking as he wrapped his arms around Combeferre, who gave his nose a gentle tap with one finger, before kissing him again. He paused for a moment, curling up against Combeferre’s chest, before adding. “Do… do you reckon you’re going to tell your parents?”

Combeferre shrugged a little, resting his chin against the top of Jehan’s head. “I might. Who knows.” He paused looking down at the poet. “Would you mind if I did?”

“Well, I’m not the one who has to live with them, am I?” Jehan replied.

Combeferre shrugged. “Well, if I do I’ll only do it if you’re okay with it. I don’t want to make you upset or any more anxious than you already are,” he said softly.

“More anxious than I’m already making myself, you mean…” Jehan mumbled, curling up a little tighter. “I’m such an idiot…” he said against Combeferre’s chest

Then, Combeferre’s finger was gently under his chin, carefully tipping his chin up to get Jehan to look at him properly. “Sweetheart, please don’t talk about yourself like that,” he said gently, kissing his forehead. Jehan sniffed, shaking his head. “I know I can’t change the way you feel about yourself but I promise you aren’t an idiot. Honestly, I think you’re amazing and I love you so, so much.”

Jehan was already a little shaky by the time Combeferre started talking, but once he was done, he wrapped his arms tightly around Combeferre’s neck, pressing his head against his shoulder and whimpering. Combeferre rubbed his back gently. “It’s okay, sweet. I know you’re anxious about meeting them and I would be too in your situation, but I know they aren’t going to hate you or think at all negatively of you. And even if they did, that wouldn’t matter,” Combeferre said in a soft voice. Jehan shook his head, his arms still wrapped tightly around Combeferre’s neck, and Combeferre gently wrapped his arms around Jehan’s waist, leaning down to kiss the top of his head. “It’s okay,” he said softly.

Even after around two thirds of a year, Combeferre was still not used to - not to mention permanently anxious about - Jehan crying and getting upset. However, he was completely understanding that Jehan was anxious about what was going to happen and didn’t want anything to go wrong.

In total it took about half an hour for Jehan to calm down, and once he was completely okay again, Combeferre wrapped his arms tightly around him and tipped the poet’s chin up to his him, very gently. “Come on,” he said softly, “We’re going out for coffee,” he soothed, his voice soft.

“I-I… Okay,” Jehan said softly, getting himself cleaned up. “Can you tell?”

“Hm?”

“That I’ve been crying. Can you tell?” he asked again.

Combeferre shook his head. “Coming?” he asked softly, getting up. Jehan nodded, getting his coat and leading Combeferre out of the door.

 ***

Combeferre, as he usually did when he and Jehan went out on a date to get coffee (or, in this case, hot chocolate; Jehan said he was in too bitter of a mood for coffee and Combeferre wasn’t overly keen either way because it gave him headaches). Combeferre bought their drinks from the café on the school grounds, and then lead Jehan off to the lake, his fingers laced through the poet’s.

“Jehan, pet, are you sure you’re completely okay with this? Because if you aren’t we can just go and stay with your uncle again…” Combeferre offered gently, squeezing hand gently as they sat down on the bench beside the lake.

Jehan sighed, sipping his drink and leaning sideways into his boyfriend’s chest and curling against him. “I… I want to meet them, you know I do. I just… you know what I-I went through with my dad; I really don’t want that again,” he explained. Combeferre nodded, gently rubbing Jehan’s back. When Jehan looked up at him Combeferre leaned down to gently kiss a bit of whipped cream from his nose.

“I understand,” Combeferre replied gently. “And if you need to leave or anything we can. I was planning on showing you around the town because I know you’ll like it, but-”

Jehan pressed his lips against Combeferre’s to get him to be quiet. “Shh, love. I get the feeling this is the most quiet it’s going to be for a while if you and your siblings are anything to go by, and the lake is lovely but it is especially lovely when it is quiet,” he said softly, leaning on Combeferre’s chest and wrapping his free arm tightly around the older man.

Combeferre smiled, wrapping his arm around Jehan’s waist and leaning his cheek against the top of his head. Jehan was obviously not in the best of moods; Combeferre knew that all he needed right now was a bit of quiet before they went away to visit his parents and also to be cuddled for a bit, which Combeferre was happy to do.

Before long, they finished their hot chocolate, but it was obvious, even without him saying anything, that Jehan was anything but keen to go back in. Instead, Combeferre pulled him down to lie down with his head in his lap. Jehan sighed, closing his eyes as Combeferre gently threaded his fingers through his hair, his other hand lightly rubbing at Jehan’s waist.

However it started getting dark and Combeferre realised that they were going to have to head back in. Jehan, he realised, had fallen asleep, and he quite wanted to sleep too, but he would much rather do that in bed (and preferably while cuddling Jehan).

Eventually, decided it was time to wake Jehan again, however; he gently tapped his shoulder, and, after a minute or so, the poet stirred, staring groggily up at him. “Jehan, sweet, it’s time to go in,” he said softly.

Jehan sat up, stretching out stiff limbs, and then wrapping his arms around Combeferre. “A few minutes more…? I’m still tired…”

“I was more thinking we could go back in and sleep,” Combeferre said fondly, kissing Jehan’s lips lightly.

Jehan offered him a small smile, resting his hand against the side of Combeferre’s face and stroking his cheek. “I love you,” Jehan said softly, resting his head on Combeferre’s shoulder and kissing him gently.

“I love you too,” Combeferre replied, getting up and leading Jehan back to the dorm, although not before depositing their rubbish in the bin. Jehan leaned against his shoulder, his fingers laced tightly through his boyfriend’s.

When they returned, Jehan set about finishing off packing in time for tomorrow, while Combeferre changed into his pajamas.

Finally, however, the two of them curled up in bed together, Jehan’s arms wrapped tightly around Combeferre’s neck, although he found himself unable to sleep. Combeferre fell asleep quickly, however, so Jehan sighed and rolled over onto his other side, curling back against Combeferre’s chest, and taking hold of his hand, hoping that he would be able to drift off soon.

However, and despite Combeferre being there, he had no such luck; by the time there was sunlight streaming through the curtains he had not slept at all, and by the time Combeferre woke up he had had ten minutes.

It seemed, however, that Combeferre understood that he wasn’t feeling good; instead of asking Jehan what was wrong or if he was okay, he gently wrapped his arms around him, kissing his forehead. “Try and get another couple of hours?” he suggested. “We have the end-of-year assembly today but really that isn’t important; we can skip it.”

Jehan sighed with relief. “You go if you want.”

“I don’t. It makes me anxious.”

“Come back to bed, then?” Jehan asked.

Combeferre sighed, but curled back up in his arms, one hand resting against the back of Jehan’s head as he held him. “When do we need to leave…?” Jehan asked sleepily.

“We have most of the day. I’ll wake you when we need to leave and you can sleep in the car if you want.”

“Okay.”

“Mm. My twin’s staying with his girlfriend and Izzy’s staying with her girlfriend; it’ll be you, me, mum and Eloise, probably,” Combeferre said softly.

Jehan, however, had already fallen asleep; he was clinging on tight to Combeferre, who guessed that he wasn’t going to get away until Jehan woke, his face buried in the older man’s shoulder and his hands on his back, fisted in his pajama jacket. Combeferre, too, was rather sleepy, although obviously less so than Jehan - he knew he wasn’t really going to be able to sit up until Jehan woke, because Jehan was extremely clingy in his sleep. Instead, he kissed the poet’s forehead and slipped his arm gently under the poet, his free hand resting on his waist.

Jehan did wake after about two hours, however, and he leaned over for a kiss, his arms wrapping tightly around Combeferre’s neck. He sighed softly into Combeferre’s mouth, nuzzling against him and teasingly sucking on his lip before he pulled away. “’Wanna do this a lot before we leave…” he mumbled as he pulled away, before going back to nibble lightly at Ferre’s lip.

“I’m sure my parents will give us some privacy,” Combeferre replied, his voice a little husky with sleep.

“Mm, I hope so,” Jehan said, kissing him again. “We need to pack.”

“I already have.” Combeferre gestured to his suitcase on the floor.

Jehan made a frustrated noise. “I don’t wanna pack…” he mumbled, burying his face in Combeferre’s chest.

Combeferre sat up, gently dislodging the poet and then picking him up. “Well, you need to.” He kissed his nose teasingly.

“Alright, alright.” Jehan kissed him slowly, and then wriggled out of his arms to continue packing. “Shouldn’t take me too long,” he said softly. “Then, more kisses?”

“If you want,” Combeferre said, smiling.


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter is mostly just travel an' stuff, yeah.

At about six, Combeferre and Jehan were waiting outside for Combeferre’s parents. Combeferre, obviously, wasn’t especially concerned; he was sat on the ground beside Jehan with Eloise, his little sister, on his lap, while Jehan was anxiously texting his uncle. Combeferre occasionally looked up at him but every time he’d asked Jehan had said that he really didn’t want to talk, and Combeferre was in no mood to worsen the situation. He knew that Jehan hated to talk about anything that was wrong.

Eloise, only being seven years old, was a weekly boarder, and went home every week, but Combeferre tended to stay at school (as did Jehan) for the entire term, not even going home during half terms.

After a couple of minutes, Eloise gently prodded Combeferre in the shoulder, and pointed over to Jehan - he was sat down on the ground, his arms over his head, shaking.

“Thanks, Ellie,” Combeferre said softly.

She wriggled off his lap, and Combeferre went over to Jehan, gently putting his arm around his shoulders. “Jehan…? What’s wrong?” he asked anxiously, rubbing his hand up and down Jehan’s back. Jehan gave a few gaspy sobs, burying his face in Combeferre’s chest.

“I-I can’t do this,” he mumbled. “I know y-your parents w-will hate m-me a-and… I-I…” He whimpered, burying his face in Combeferre’s chest. Combeferre stroked his hair. “E-even Eloise w-won’t t-talk to me…”

“She’s non-verbal.”

Jehan just sobbed, his face buried in Combeferre’s chest and his hands fisted in the back of his shirt as he cried. He hadn’t expected to feel quite this hopeless about the prospect of meeting his boyfriend’s mother, but there you had it.

“Deep breaths,” Combeferre said softly, still moving his hand up and down his back. “You’re going to be fine; nothing will happen.” He held onto Jehan until the sobs had subsided fully, Jehan appeared, at least to him, to have calmed down again. “It’s okay. You’re going to be okay,” he reassured. “Come here.” He swept Jehan a little closer into his arms, and Jehan’s arms went around his shoulders.

“H-how much longer…?” Jehan’s voice shook. “I just… want to have stopped crying by the time your mum arrives.”

“She’ll understand,” Combeferre replied. “But not much more than about…” He turned to Eloise. “Ellie? What time is it?”

She signed six.

“Not much more than twenty minutes,” Combeferre replied.

Jehan sniffed, face pressed up into Combeferre’s shoulder. Eloise crawled over onto Combeferre’s lap, and gently wrapped his free arm around her waist. Jehan absently pillowed his head on Combeferre’s shoulder, wanting very much for Combeferre to look after him, but not knowing how to ask or how Combeferre would take it. Instead, he leaned into Combeferre’s shoulder and rubbed his hand against Combeferre’s side.

“I’m sorry I’m so clingy,” he said softly, nuzzling into Combeferre’s shoulder.

Combeferre smiled. “You aren’t. And even if you were, I would love you for it.” He leaned down and pressed a kiss to Jehan’s lips. “So much.”

“I am, though,” Jehan mumbled. “I’m a horrible, clingy person. I don’t deserve you.”

“You deserve better,” Combeferre replied, touching a hand to the back of the poet’s head. “You deserve so much better.”

“I prefer this,” Jehan replied, his voice soft but still determined.

Eloise was signing something.

“What’s she saying?” Jehan asked, frowning.

“Oh, thanks,” Combeferre replied softly. “That -” he gestured to a car coming up the drive, “is our mother’s car.”

Jehan gave a squeak of distress, but took a few deep breaths, Combeferre gently rubbing his back. “Keep taking deep breaths; it’s okay,” Combeferre soothed, fishing around in his pockets for an inhaler, which he quickly took, and then gave to Jehan.

Jehan looked up at him, eyes wide and full of tears. “I’m anxious,” he mumbled, squeezing Combeferre’s hands as the older boy kissed him quickly. As Ferre pulled away, Jehan couldn’t help but think that his eyelashes were very long.

Eloise wriggled off of Combeferre’s lap, Combeferre stretching his legs out with an obvious air of relief; both had obviously fallen asleep, but he hadn’t wanted to say anything. Eloise couldn’t stand sitting on grass and Combeferre was nothing if not a good brother.

“I didn’t realise you could…” Jehan waved his hands in a vague approximation of sign language.

“You are very bad at paying attention. Also don’t make sign language up.”

He gave Jehan’s nose a gentle prod, but the poet didn’t much like the way he was being looked at, so he wriggled away. “Don’t. I’m already…” He gestured angrily.

Combeferre sighed. “Okay. I’m sorry.” He reached for Jehan’s hand, but Jehan pulled away slightly. “Do you want to talk when we’re in the car or anything?”

“I’d much rather just sleep,” Jehan replied softly. When Combeferre looked as though his stomach had twisted unpleasantly, Jehan leaned up for a quick kiss. “It’s nothing personal,” he said softly. “I just… I don’t want to be anxious and the only way I won’t be is if I sleep,” the poet explained.

Combeferre nodded. “As long as you aren’t mad at me,” he murmured.

“I couldn’t be,” Jehan replied, shaking his head and wrapping his arms around the older boy’s waist. “I love you,” he said softly, curling against his shoulder.

“I love you too.” Combeferre stroked the poet’s hair gently and kissed him again. “It’s going to be fine, Jehan, don’t worry,” he said softly.

“I am worried,” Jehan replied. He looked up anxiously at Combeferre, blushing a little. Combeferre gently rubbed his hands over the poet’s back and kissed him again. “I… Sorry…” he mumbled, curling against his boyfriend’s chest. Combeferre linked his hands against the poet’s side and smiled at Eloise, who was frowning intently at the two of them. Combeferre lightly petted the little girl’s hair, holding Jehan close as well.

“Okay, tell me what you’re worried about,” Combeferre said as Jehan got up, Combeferre’s mother having parked.

“I…” Jehan gave a soft sigh. “I’m just… I think your mother will hate me or say I’ve done something wrong being with you…” He sighed, wiping his eyes as Combeferre picked up their cases.

“Don’t worry, Jehan. That won’t happen; I promise you that.” He smiled, Jehan hiding a little.

Eloise proudly pulled hers behind her, although Combeferre had to help her get it into the car. Once he had got the girl into the car, he and Jehan also got in, Jehan collapsing against Combeferre’s shoulder.

“Mum, this is Jehan,” Combeferre said, smiling and putting his arm around Jehan, who leaned into him and curled against him. “Unfortunately I doubt we’re going to get much out of him,” he said, slightly jokingly as he fished about for his iPod and headphones.

Combeferre realised, after about ten minutes, that Jehan actually was asleep rather than just pretending to be to avoid an awkward conversation with his mother, one arm draped over his waist and his free hand fisted in the back of Ferre’s shirt. Combeferre smiled, letting the little poet lean against his chest and cuddle into his arms. He gently wrapped his coat around the poet, which seemed to be a good thing to do, as Jehan curled into it.

“How did you two meet?” his mother asked, looking at them in the rear-view mirror.

Combeferre smiled. “We share a room.” He paused. “Since we moved into Sixth Form they’ve put us in rooms with two people,” he explained. “It’s the smallest Boarding-House but we live with Enjolras, so…” He shrugged.

“Keeping him in check, I hope?”

Combeferre chuckled, gently shifting Jehan into his arms and away from his shoulder. “Of course,” he said, gently petting Jehan’s hair.

“Well, I’m glad you’ve been able to find somebody you’re so close to.” She smiled. “Or somebody else, really - if you and Enjolras are still friends.”

Combeferre nodded, lightly scratching the side of Jehan’s head. The poet purred softly and leaned into the contact, before nuzzling into his side. “No change there,” he said, smiling. “He still calls me Combeferret. It caught on and now everybody does.” He paused. “How long?”

“About an hour. Why?” Combeferre’s mother replied, still looking at him in the mirror.

“I was thinking I might sleep in the car.” He rubbed Jehan’s back. “I haven’t slept much lately; I’ve had a lot of work and, well…” He yawned, hugging Jehan, who curled into his shoulder.

“Well, I’m glad you’re making friends.”

He smiled, still gently petting Jehan’s hair as he sat beside the poet. Of course, he could understand why his mother was glad; he had never been that good at making friends (because of his asperger’s - it really didn’t make anything easy), and he knew that the fact that, for several years, his friends had been limited to Enjolras and Courfeyrac (only extending after a year or so to also cover Feuilly), had worried her, but he still felt more than a little patronised.

Of course, he loved his mother - it was quite difficult not to. But he still rather disliked being treated like he was incompetent. He had managed to get into a relationship without any help from her (even though she didn’t know he was gay), and he had quite a few friends.

Jehan was half-awake, groggily watching Combeferre with his hand on the older boy’s waist. Both of them were wrapped up in Combeferre’s coat, Combeferre looking down at his phone with his arm around Jehan’s waist and his cheek resting against the top of his head. While he was a little anxious of telling his mother that they were together, he knew it was probably for the best - he knew that Jehan needed to have somebody there for him because really his father was not much use.

It was still nerve-wracking, though.

The journey back home took about three hours, and Combeferre alternately napped and talked quietly to Jehan, who replied very little. He simply curled into Combeferre’s side, unwilling to meet anyone’s eye.

“Do you want to talk when we get in?” he asked softly, when Jehan looked at his phone and sighed, for the fifth time.

Jehan just nodded the slightest bit, without saying anything or showing any emotion. He just looked down at his lap, Combeferre gently running his hand through his hair with a sigh, not trying to see what Jehan was doing or who he was texting.

“It’s my dad,” he muttered softly. Combeferre nodded a little, quickly kissing his hair. Jehan leaned into his shoulder and sighed, cuddling up and pressing his head against Combeferre’s chest.

When they arrived, Jehan and Combeferre were both asleep, Combeferre resting his cheek against the top of Jehan’s head, while Jehan had his head in the crook of his shoulder. Combeferre woke up first, gently nudging Jehan’s shoulder with one hand, and then gently nosing him, eliciting a soft giggle, when the poet woke.

“Do you two mind sharing a room, or have you seen enough of each other this term?” Combeferre’s mother joked. Combeferre briefly looked at Jehan, who instantly cowered into his boyfriend’s shoulder.

“I-It’s fine - I-I don’t mind sh-sharing…”

“Neither do I,” Combeferre agreed, petting Jehan’s hair softly. He was shaking a little, still cowering into ‘Ferre’s shoulder. Combeferre didn’t entirely know how best to calm him down, but he shifted, putting his phone down, and wrapped both arms tightly around Jehan, who gave a soft whimper and buried his face in his boyfriend’s chest, snuggling up. Combeferre gently stroked his hair and kissed his hair again.

Combeferre was glad that his mother understood anxiety; he himself had previously had issues, although not nearly as badly as Jehan. She was, however, used to this sort of thing, having seen Combeferre at his worst as well.

“I’d hope you can still remember the way around the house?” Combeferre’s mother asked.

Combeferre nodded slightly, before leaning down to rest his forehead against Jehan’s and check on him. Jehan just sighed, tangling his fingers in with Combeferre’s hair as ‘Ferre’s mother gently got Eloise out of the car. Combeferre leaned in for a quick kiss, before he and Jehan got out of the car. “My mum’ll leave us alone, don’t worry,” he said softly, kissing him again. Jehan kissed back, seeming unwilling to pull away, and melted against Combeferre’s chest as they kissed, but he did move back eventually, albeit obviously unwillingly.

Combeferre got out of the car, getting their bags out of the boot.


	3. Chapter 3

Jehan sighed and followed Combeferre into the house, dragging his suitcase upstairs (Combeferre eventually took it and carried it for him) and then collapsing onto the bed. Combeferre took his coat off, and then curled around him, Jehan pressing back into his chest with a sigh.

“I know I’m being ridiculous but I’m tired and anxious and I just want to sleep but I don’t think I’ll be able to…” He sniffled a little, pressing a little further against Combeferre’s chest.

“Okay - I’m not especially hungry; why don’t we just go to sleep now?” Combeferre suggested softly, stroking the poet’s hair.

“I d-don’t wa-want to upset y-you, a-and…” He sobbed quietly.

Combeferre sat up, moving over and gently sweeping Jehan up into his arms, pulling him close. “It’s okay, pet. It isn’t your fault you’re anxious; it just… it happens sometimes.” He kissed the poet’s hair, Jehan nuzzling against Combeferre and burying his face in his boyfriend’s chest.

“I-I…” Jehan was still sobbing, his arms wrapped tightly around Combeferre’s shoulders.

“It’s okay, I promise,” Combeferre reassured him softly, wrapping his arms gently around Jehan’s waist and letting the poet snuggle into him and rubbing his back. “I’ve got you, it’s alright.”

The poet gave a few weak sobs, his face still hidden in Combeferre’s chest while the philosopher held him and stroked his hair, occasionally moving to rub a hand over Jehan’s back. When Jehan had calmed himself down again, he took a few deep breaths, and then leaned up to press a gentle kiss to Combeferre’s lips. Combeferre smiled and kissed back, Jehan falling gently back onto the bed and snuggling up, flipping them over so that he was lying on top of Combeferre and going back for more kisses, cheered up and smiling now.

Combeferre smiled, gently lifting Jehan’s chin and deepening the kisses, as the poet smiled, wrapping both arms around Combeferre’s neck.

“Come on,” the philosopher said softly. “Let’s get some sleep.”

Jehan nodded, wriggling off and rolling off him, although not without briefly grinding his hips down and nipping at Combeferre’s lip. Combeferre groaned softly, but otherwise he didn’t really react that much.

Jehan quickly changed into his pajamas, Combeferre momentarily disappearing into the bathroom to change. Jehan was sat on the bed, attempting to brush his hair, when the older boy returned. Combeferre settled down beside him, leaning into the poet’s shoulder. Jehan smiled and gently ran his fingers through Combeferre’s hair, settling back against the pillows and pulling Combeferre against him, and then flipping them over so that he was on Combeferre’s lap as they kissed.

Combeferre hummed softly into his mouth, smiling and stroking the poet’s soft hair, before he wrapped his arms gently around his waist. He didn’t want to move; didn’t want Jehan to pull back, but he still felt bad for being so needy. But Jehan’s fingers were under his chin and Combeferre had his arms around his waist and God he was in love-

And they probably would have gone further than that, because the hand not currently sneaking up under Combeferre’s shirt and rubbing gently over his ribs was on the waistline of his pajamas, and Combeferre had already started undoing the buttons of Jehan’s shirt. However, they did not go any further than just kissing, and both of them really wanted more. And that was because Combeferre’s mother knocked on the door.

Combeferre sighed, gently shifting Jehan off him (the poet hurriedly did the buttons of his shirt - because Combeferre had undone the vast majority of the buttons), and doing his belt back up again.

“Do you two want anything to eat?” Combeferre’s mother asked, smiling.

“We were actually thinking about going to bed,” Combeferre replied, his arm around Jehan’s waist as he leaned his cheek against the top of the younger boy’s head.

“Alright, then.” Combeferre’s mother smiled and nodded. “Well, I’ll leave you two alone.” She nodded, and went out again.

Jehan crawled, almost instantly, back onto Combeferre’s lap, curling up and cuddling into him. Combeferre sighed, leaning back against the back of the bed, seeing that Jehan was probably not going to sleep much (he was obviously too anxious and upset), and really he wasn’t especially tired either. Instead, he gently put his hand against the back of Jehan’s head and hugged him gently, rubbing his back and sighing softly, leaning down to kiss Jehan’s hair, and tucking the blankets around the two of them. Jehan curled against him, looking up after a few moments.

“I love you so much,” he said softly, pressing his lips gently to Combeferre’s, and smiling gently.

Combeferre’s eyes fluttered shut as they kissed; he smiled a little, leaning his head back against the bed and gently pulling Jehan close. Smiling, the poet kissed his forehead and wrapped his arms around his shoulders, cuddling up affectionately. “You have no idea how amazing you are,” he said softly.

“I’m not at all. You’re the amazing one, Jehan. I don’t know where I’d be without you.”

“No doubt incredibly boring but also incredibly successful.”

“Down, boy,” Combeferre joked, smiling a little as he stroked Jehan’s hair.

“And prematurely grey through Enjolras’ influence,” Jehan added, pressing a quick kiss to Combeferre’s temple.

Combeferre chuckled warmly. “I already am; I just dye it. It’s the curse of my family. My dad was going grey at fifteen.”

“He probably deserved it,” Jehan replied (to which Combeferre nodded the slightest bit), knowing of the contention between Combeferre and his father. Combeferre just sighed, nuzzling Jehan’s shoulder and then leaning back again. “Anyway. You are falling asleep,” Jehan said, pressing another quick kiss to his lips, “and I am quite sleepy. Let’s just sleep.”

Combeferre nodded, half opening his eyes and wriggling down under the covers, pulling Jehan close. Jehan wriggled around a little, wrapping his arms tightly around Combeferre before rolling over, Combeferre rolling with him, so that Jehan was lying on top of Combeferre’s chest, his head against the older boy’s shoulder as Combeferre’s arms wrapped gently around his waist.

“Combeferre?”

“Mmhmm?”

“If… if we go to the same University, would you want to live with me?”

“Of course,” Combeferre replied sleepily, kissing Jehan’s hair.

“I love you.” Jehan kissed the ridge of one of Combeferre’s collarbones, the older boy playing with his hair as he switched off the light.

“I love you too, pet,” Combeferre replied softly. “Now, go to sleep. Preferably without lying on me.” He kissed his hair, Jehan rolling off him.

Combeferre smiled, gently curling around the poet’s back. After a few seconds, Jehan gave a soft chuckle, gently dragging Combeferre’s hand around, lacing their fingers together and kissing the inside of his boyfriend’s wrist.

Combeferre was the first to fall asleep, his nose pressed gently into Jehan’s hair, and when Jehan dropped off he was still holding Combeferre’s hand, curled back against his boyfriend’s chest.

***

Jehan woke about an hour before Combeferre’s alarm, as he had started to do at school, so that he could switch it off and let Combeferre sleep past half-five. He had moved around in his sleep, now lying facing Combeferre, who had both arms around Jehan’s waist, Jehan’s arm draped over his boyfriend’s shoulder, hand resting on his back as they slept. He didn’t entirely know how this had happened but he knew that it had, and that he was extremely comfortable in Combeferre’s arms.

However, he moved away slightly, sitting up and allowing the blankets to fall down off his delicate shoulders as he smiled down at Combeferre, who was still on his side, one knee drawn up against his chest. Jehan smiled down and brushed his boyfriend’s hair back out of his face, and then curled up again, wrapping his arms tightly around him.

Combeferre mumbled to himself in his sleep, as Jehan knew he tended to do, reaching over and wrapping his arms around his boyfriend. Jehan smiled a little, pressing his head into the crook of Combeferre’s neck and cuddling him back, pressing a few gentle kisses against his neck and collarbones, before cuddling up and pulling the blankets up around them, his hand on Combeferre’s waist. He gave a soft, very affectionate sigh, before curling back up to sleep.

When he woke again, Combeferre was sat up, Jehan curled against his side in his sleep. Combeferre was sat up, reading, one hand gently stroking Combeferre’s hair as he read, smiling slightly. Jehan couldn’t see what the book was, but whatever it was was, apparently, interesting - based on the look on Combeferre’s face.

Jehan had always loved mornings like this, even before they had started this relationship, but he loved the look on Combeferre’s face when he was utterly enthralled in what he was reading or doing even more than that, so he smiled, staying lying down and leaning into the soft hand gently stroking his hair. He wriggled around a little and snuggled in, leaning closer against his boyfriend’s side.

After a while, he sat up, taking Combeferre’s glasses off and kissing him, eliciting a soft chuckle against his lips and a mumbled, “Good morning, you.”

Jehan smiled, leaning away for a second and putting Combeferre’s glasses on the bedside table. “Good morning, pet,” he said softly, leaning in to kiss him again. Combeferre settled back down beside him, wrapping his arm around Jehan, picking his glasses up and going back to his book, although not without pressing a quick kiss to Jehan’s temple.

“How did you sleep?” Combeferre asked, gently stroking Jehan’s hair.

Jehan pressed his head against Combeferre’s chest, closing his eyes with a smile. “Quite well,” he said softly, smiling. “You?” He stayed with his head pressed softly against Combeferre’s chest, listening to the steady beat of the older boy’s heart.

“Pretty well. You’d moved around so much you’d stolen all the covers by the time I woke up, though.” He kissed Jehan’s hair softly. “Still, I have a book.” He turned it towards Jehan.

“What are you reading?”

“Good Omens.”

“Do tell,” Jehan said, leaning closer and snuggling against him, continuing to listen to Combeferre, feeling the vibrations of what the philosopher was saying through his cheekbone.

“It’s about an angel and a demon trying to stop the apocalypse,” Combeferre said gently, stroking Jehan’s hair as he talked. “It’s quite amusing, all things considered.”

“I’ll keep an eye out for it…” Jehan was obviously still quite sleepy, leaning against Combeferre’s chest as he cuddled up.

Combeferre leaned down, gently lifting Jehan’s chin and kissing him softly. Jehan’s hands moved to his boyfriend’s cheeks as they kissed, thumbs resting against his jaw. Eventually, he wrapped his arms tightly around Combeferre, tipping his head to the side slightly and smiling into the kiss, giggling softly.

Jehan suddenly pulled away, however, when the door opened and Combeferre’s mother came in - he was pretty sure that she hadn’t seen anything, but he was quite red, and it was probably obvious that they had shared a bed, as they hadn’t actually bothered to make one up on the floor.

“Do you two want breakfast?” Combeferre’s mum asked. “And I was wondering why you two were being so affectionate - that does explain it, though.” She smiled.

Combeferre was extremely red, but Jehan was too happy to care - he was too in love, really, and it was probably blindingly obvious by this point. Still, he could tell that Combeferre was uncomfortable because in all honesty he would have to be pretty stupid not to know, so he leaned away and smiled.

“We were going to go out, actually,” Combeferre eventually managed to force himself to say, Jehan having to hide his head in his hands and giggle.

Combeferre prodded him lightly in the back as the door closed, before collapsing backwards, still blushing a lot, onto the bed and putting a pillow over his face.

“Well, you said you were going to tell her…” Jehan said, still giggling and flopping gently into Combeferre’s arms, curling into his side as the older boy removed the pillow from over his face, leaning down to stroke Jehan’s hair.

Smiling, Jehan sat up, Combeferre doing so as well, pulling Jehan onto his lap and cuddling him close with a chuckle, pressing a quick kiss behind the poet’s ear. “Well, I suppose we weren’t exactly being subtle when she was around,” he said, shrugging. “I don’t know what I was anxious about.”

“Well, it’s nerve-wracking,” Jehan said, although he was obviously very amused. However, the poet curled back into Combeferre’s chest and took hold of his hands, kissing the insides of his wrists. “I love you a lot, you know. Even if you are a dork,” he said, grinning and kissing him.

Combeferre smiled, despite himself, against his boyfriend’s lips, as Jehan crawled over his hips and kissed him gently, his hands on his cheeks. “I love you too. Even if you are being mean,” he chuckled, gently stroking Jehan’s hair.


End file.
